


And the harvest's done

by luna65



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bedelia gets et, Cannibalism, M/M, Murder Husbands, post-S3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna65/pseuds/luna65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Digesting the notion of what it means to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the harvest's done

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to "Provender" though it's not so much about what happens but _why_.

She found me roots of relish sweet,  
And honey wild, and manna-dew,  
And sure in language strange she said—  
‘I love thee true.'  
\- John Keats, "La Belle Dame sans Merci"

 

Bedelia provided a fine feast for her hosts. On the last night, after they buried what was left of her, they consumed her sweetbreads and Will thought of a movie he had seen, years ago, about a group of people who decided to cloister themselves in the countryside and eat until they died. Its' shocking subject had led it to become a shunned work, but eagerly sought out due to its macabre reputation. And he wondered how many would also be eager to sup with Hannibal...more than one would think, he imagined. He had read some of the letters which Hannibal received while at the State Hospital. They considered him the ultimate gourmand.

 _She had it coming_ , he told himself. And reminded himself this was not the first time he had willingly crossed a boundary, even as it seemed - in his mind - to be a very high wall indeed, and what lay on the other side was utter chaos. But also a landscape which was empty and menacing for the absence of any ordering influence.

But most importantly: Bedelia was _delicious_. Though Hannibal did not grant her the privilege - as he had done for Abel Gideon - of tasting herself.

"Those things most eagerly sought, I have attained them," Hannibal declared.

Will was chewing with a sour look on his face. "I don't think I like kidneys at all," he said.

"It is an acquired taste."

"And what have you attained?"

"Power, wisdom, immortality."

Will considered the notion, taking a long drink of wine to wash the taste of the flambeed kidneys from his mouth.

"The boogeyman lives on forever."

"Arthur Machen once posited that men are not compelled to evil because they are content with life as it is. Those who seek knowledge of an external realm, those are who we would call evil."

"Outside of all laws and conventions," Will noted.

"And how does it feel to reside in that liminal space? At this moment we stand unopposed to our own instincts."

"Dancing a waltz after the party."

Hannibal was silent for several moments, staring at Will. "You once said 'don't mistake empathy for understanding,' and I would ask you to make the same distinction regarding depravity and evil. One is only a debauched echo of the other."

"It was all very elegant, that particular party."

"But sincerely wasteful, as all debauchery is."

"Did we put her to better use?"

"How do you think Bedelia would have passed her days, if not for us?"

"If not for your influence, you mean."

"She took less encouragement to emerge than you did. Merely a manipulation of circumstance."

"Did you ever consider her a friend?"

"Not in quite the same way that I consider you my friend. But for a time she was the only one I knew who saw me and managed to survive the epiphany."

"Bedelia certainly had her own impulses towards cruelty."

"It's not cruelty if the other is incapable of understanding why certain impulses must be expended."

"Was it an act of God which killed your mutual patient, then?"

Hannibal smirked. "It was a gift, though one she was ambivalent about accepting. I heard about her lectures, the way in which she denied her own culpability."

"She obfuscated."

"She earned her thirty pieces of silver after all. And I the rightful privilege of disemboweling her."

 

 

The darkness, when it came, was entire. They had chosen well, the site of their last supper before disappearing into the world, having undergone the ritual of passing through air to be submerged in chthonic realms then returning anew having witnessed the secret rites and tasted the forbidden delights. This was _all_ symbolic and therefore the way in which it all passed like a dream before him was to be expected. 

Will heard something out in the night - a scream or a shriek - and got up from his chair, stood before the window trying to see into what appeared to be a wall of utter black.

"What's out there?" he whispered. Hannibal came to stand directly behind him.

" _Up the airy mountain, down the rushy glen, we daren't go a-hunting, for fear of little men_. Dark forces, Will, far more occulted than even you and I."

Will smirked at the shadow of himself in the window. "I'm still amazed I can see my reflection now."

"And mine as well?"

"Apparently you cannot be killed. How many times _have_ you escaped death, Dr. Lecter?"

Hannibal pursed his lips for a moment, the thought seemingly humorous to him. "Enough times to recognize it when it comes."

"You've embraced it."

"I have indeed."

He placed his hand on Will's shoulder.

"But it did not appear to embrace me with the same fervor."

"I held you as tight as I possibly could."

"I can feel it," Hannibal murmured in his ear, "as if it is still occurring."

"When will we leave?"

"Tomorrow, if you like. There is no hurry."

"I don't want to be here anymore, with Bedelia's bones in the ground and -"

He paused, swallowing heavily.

"You have gone under the hill, my friend. Some journeys you cannot revoke."

He thought of another poem which Hannibal had read to him during their convalescence, and how apt it seemed.

"I am awake now, on the cold hillside, and the birds do not sing."

The air was filled with the cicadas' humming, as the day's warmth slowly retreated from the house.

"But you are not broken, and I have not abandoned you."

Their reflections appeared to waver and merge in the window.

"You're the one who won't let go," Will whispered.


End file.
